The Dark Side of Passion
by Temptress-Kitten17
Summary: Set during Season 5. Alternate version of the breakup. Warning: lots of use of the F word and lemon because this is Temptress Kitten you're dealing with here ;)


Author's Note: I started this story back in Season 5 just after the breakup. I didn't like how passive Elena was and was probably in a very weird mood. Who knows why I wrote it this way (I can't remember that far back) but I was digging through my old Evernote files and came across it and thought "hey, this is still pretty damn good" and so I'm sharing it now that I've polished it up a bit. I also want to let any of you who followed me back in the old days know that I haven't abandoned writing. It's just really tough to find time or energy at the moment because I have a 5 year old and a 2 year old. That's right, I'm a mother now. I am responsible for the well-being of small children. I know, right? It's crazy to me sometimes too! But here we are! TVD has ended and WE WON! I still see that the Stelena fans are a little bitter about that as I see Damon and Elena pop up in a few "Couples Who Ended Up Together That We're Pissed About" Buzzfeed articles, but seriously how could it NOT be Delena in the end? It was ALWAYS supposed to be Delena! Stefan even ended up with Caroline for a few brief moments before giving up his life to save Damon, so that's TWO pairings I was right about. Take that, Stelena fans!

Anyway, enough gloating. I know you want the smutty goodness, so here it is. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Damon and Elena, I just like to make them do sexy stuff for my own amusement.

THE DARK SIDE OF PASSION

She slaps him. Hard. It's not something she's proud of, but he infuriates her beyond rational thought and slapping him has always been her gut reaction whenever he's being an ass. And right now, he is most definitely being an ass.

He tells her he's no good for her. He tells her he won't ever change. Maybe that's true. Maybe she should leave him, but inexplicably she just can't DO that. He is under her skin, buried deep into her heart where she can't tear him out without tearing apart her soul. It's why she keeps forgiving him for every stupid stunt, every cruel act. He kills her friends without remorse for fuck's sake! She knows she should hate him.

Love is fucking complicated.

So she slaps him, because what else can she do? He has hurt her AGAIN and she keeps letting him in. She still loves him.

Yes, it's fucked up. SHE is fucked up.

The crack of his jaw when her hand connects with it is loud and satisfying. He doesn't blink. Doesn't react. He expects this by now.

She hates him for not reacting. She hates him. She loves him. She hates that she loves him.

He is unflinching, standing there stoic and silent. She calls him a bastard and any other insulting names she can think of.

He agrees with her. Tells her to leave if she hates him so much.

"I can't. I still love you!" She screams.

"Then STOP!"

If only it was that simple.

She lunges for him, not sure if it's to kiss him or kill him. He grabs her hands to keep her from doing either. But he forgets that she's stronger now; no longer human. He can't control her like he used to and she pulls free of his grasp.

She shoves him away, the force of it enough to send him flying straight into the wall. She rushes forward, pinning him there before he has a chance to blink. Her lips on his. Tugging. Pulling. Biting.

She pours all her frustration into that kiss. Her teeth pierce his bottom lip, drawing blood. She sucks at the wound, leaving a bruise. Her nails rake over his chest, digging roughly into his skin. She wants to hurt him. Punish him. Make him suffer for making her fall in love with him.

He struggles to regain the upper hand, the way he always does. She refuses to let him and presses her knee between his legs. A near painful warning for him to behave or face the consequences.

Fabric rips beneath her hands; his shirt nothing but rags on the floor; his jeans soon to follow. She keeps her panties on, straddles him; uses him for her pleasure. Lights flash behind her eyes as she rubs him over her sweet spot until she damn near loses her mind with pleasure.

He does this to her. He makes her so hot and needy and she can't think about anything else but him inside her.

Even when she's furious with him.

Especially when she's furious with him.

She throws him down to the floor, pinning his hips down with hers.

Her nails tear into his flesh leaving deep red trails of dark blood. She dips her head and traces her tongue over them, the taste of blood, sweat and something that's just _him_ consumes her. She can't get enough. She will NEVER get enough.

His hands reach for her and she slaps them away. She doesn't want him to touch her. She's still mad at him, after all, and he hasn't the right to touch her just yet. She straddles him, impales herself in one hard, long stroke. He fills her so completely and she bitterly wonders to herself how he can fill her up and yet leave her empty at the same time. How he can hurt her so deeply and still make her feel more alive than she ever felt when she was still human.

She slams her hips down again, relishing in the way he cries out her name; strangled grunts and groans.

"Elena..."

Her name on his lips, the sweetest sound.

"Elena!"

She rides him harder, white light flashing behind her eyes. The sound of her name almost an echo, like she's underwater, drowning in a sea of pleasure and pain.

"Elena!"

And then, just like that, she forgets why she was angry with him. She remembers nothing but the sound of his voice, the feel of his skin against hers. Sweat drenches their naked, writhing bodies and the bedsheets are a tangled knot on the floor. She rolls off him, utterly spent. She can't catch her breath and the room is spinning and she fucking missed this SO much!

She doesn't care about anything else right now. All the reasons why they "don't work" and all the things he said about them being "toxic" just don't matter. She gets it; she DOES. Damon has always been complicated; he has a dark side and it's terrifying and exciting at the same time. Try as she once had, she couldn't deny the attraction. Now, as a vampire, it calls to her like a moth to a flame.

 _"This is toxic. We are in a toxic relationship"_

She can feel the bed beneath her now, more solid. She comes back to herself and realizes the enormity of what she's done. Again.

The cold sets in. She looks over and recognizes the same fear in his eyes that's echoed back in her own. What do they do now? Even when they try to break it off, they keep winding up back here to this place. It's a sickness; an addiction to each other that can't be broken.

 _"Then stop loving me!"_

She knows she should get dressed; she needs to put as much distance between them as she can, before he tears her heart out once again and tells her that he is bad for her-she KNOWS that he is. She knows how fucked up they both are; that's part of the attraction. It's what drew her to him; two fucked up people drawn to the darkness in spite of themselves.

 _"I can't"_

She lies there in the darkness, unmoving, willing herself to sleep. She can sense he's awake but she still pretends to be asleep nonetheless. She can't face him; can't face what they've done or what it means. It _can't_ mean that everything they said was a lie. It wasn't; they _are_ over. They said it and they can't take it back.

 _"That's the problem! We don't work!"_

His breathing evens out, but she doesn't try to get up. Truth be told, she doesn't want to leave this bed. She doesn't want to face the cold reality that awaits her once she does.

 _"I know."_


End file.
